Getting one thing done

How deep in a rut am I that it's a major victory if I just get one thing done? It's not depression, it's denial. While I'm in this house I feel safe. Until bedtime. Me and the demon weed. Then I realize I'm almost dead, the nest egg will dry up, I'll be old and alone (if I'm lucky) and might as well move to Miami.

I  dream that I get called in to work but things go wrong that are out of my control.  I'm chastised and pissed and I wake up unsatisfied.

Today I walked up and down the driveway for 30 laps. Because the Stairmaster wouldn't turn on. I could have done more. Next time 40 laps. My legs have stopped hurting. Can't believe the squats found so many unused fibers. My one thing is exercise. And now this. That's two.